Some readers have been in touch, pointing out that I never revealed what happened after my unexpected night terror. Rest assured, I always finish what I start. Whenever I'm confronted with imagined demons who attempt to subconsciously reveal the gaping black hole where my soul should be, I merely embark on a PowerPoint-assisted presentation explaining my vision for the future of our newsletters. After roughly 10 minutes, all the demons stop attacking me of their own volition. It seems after only a short period of being exposed to my overly rehearsed, rambling spiel about the imagined future of our company, most entities – either real or imagined – recoil whether they physically want to or not. That's the abhorrent power of my overriding vision. So whenever those nightmares attack, I merely turn to page one of my rigorous manifesto. And before those night terrors can properly unleash a suitably hellish torrent of abuse, they are disconcertingly dazed by my stultifying stance. That's how I, improbably, sleep easy.
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You sleep? How can you sleep, be passionate about journalism and compete with the might of the BBC?
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